


Will We Be Always, Always?

by Waterlily23



Series: Non-Magic Blackinnon AU [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Few years later, Marlene is Unhappy and so is Sirius, broken relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2473988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waterlily23/pseuds/Waterlily23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's unhealthy, really, their relationship and she knows that but she can't leave him, even if she tried. Part two of the Blackinnon Non-Magic AU series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will We Be Always, Always?

It’s unhealthy, really, their relationship and she knows that but she can’t leave him, even if she tried.

She can’t leave, not when he doesn’t eat, move or even acknowledge the fact that he’s living, for days on end. She doesn’t even know if what he does can be considered living, they’re both just existing at this point, she doesn’t care if she’s alive or dead anymore, she doesn’t even know the difference because this can’t be considered living but she sure as hell isn’t dead yet. She doesn’t _want_ to die, she isn’t suicidal but she gave up fighting for her life long ago. She wouldn’t flinch if she was struck by a car and she definitely wouldn’t try and preserve her life if it ever was in danger. But for that she’d have to leave the house and that means leaving him, and leaving their little bubble, and whilst it’s dull and full of tension you could choke on and emotions neither of them can fully express, it’s familiar and safe and its home and she needs that. If anything, she knows her limits here.

She loves him, she does. She has for years and they’re not stuck in a rut or have lost their spark, it’s been like this since the beginning and yes it’s emotionally draining but at least there’s no fear of the unknown. They’re both broken, they’ve always have been, and they’ve stayed that way. It’s not beautifully devastating or glorified tragedy. It’s not the romanticised story of boy meets girl and they save each other from their demons and live beautiful long lives together, it’s not that at all. Its boy meets girl, both filled with the fantastical notion spearheaded by their generation that someone will fall in love with their ‘ _beautifully tragic’_ pain and save them from their problems which are slowly suffocating them. No, it’s bitter realisation that the only person that can save them is their self and they’ve lost that battle long ago. Its fire and fire and everybody got burnt. She loves him, she does, and well if could’ve she wouldn’t have chose this for herself, she would have chose the boy with the beautiful smile who’d fix her and all her problems and they’d live long happy lives but she didn’t, she fell for the boy with more problems than a maths textbook, the boy who’s the kerosene to her fire that hasn’t stopped burning since because their relationship was doomed from the start and she realised too late.

He loves her too, she knows that, he used to _always_ tell her, whisper it into her hair, into her skin, telling her she was beautiful when she felt low, back when they thought that things would get better, that _they_ would get better. They were young, victims to their own naivety, their foolishness, their blind faith. And maybe she’s always been wrong, maybe she never loved him, maybe he never meant any of the words he spoke so tenderly, maybe they were victims to their own thoughts, their own feelings. Maybe they got it all wrong, maybe she _was_ supposed to love a stable boy with a stable life and stable emotions, and maybe she was supposed to have a better life. But this isn’t comforting knowing that their inevitable self-destruction could’ve been prevented if they had taken the steps to prevent it. But, she reasons, why would her body’ve felt on fire by his touch if she didn’t want him? Why would he constantly invade her thoughts if she didn’t care? Why would her heart stop when he smiled at her? Yes, she definitely loved him and yes, she knew he loved her, even now, she felt his lingering looks, heard his longing words, felt his desperate touches. And maybe now it all makes sense, now she realises why she stayed for so long, why their little bubble felt like home to her and well, it’s terrifying.

Her mother used to say to her, ‘ _you can love who you choose but you can’t choose who you love’._ And she never understood because isn’t loving who you’ve chosen, choosing the person you love? But now she gets it, she loves him, everything about him but she didn’t choose to love him, and if she had the chance then maybe this would be a different story with a completely different girl. Maybe she’d be happy. But she didn’t have the choice and she loves him, _God, she loves him so much it’s consuming her,_ and no matter how destructive their relationship is, no matter how much either of them are hurting, she can’t leave. And now she knows it’s not because she’s scared of being outside their little world but it’s because she loves him _too_ much, so much it’s dangerous, so much that she’d destroy herself to be with him, so much because she’s already done that. She gets it now, why they say that love is a drug, and it’s not because it’s addictive but because it creates enthralling side effects and even though you know the dangers of the drug you keep coming back because you rely on the feeling, you crave it, you’re so completely dependent on it, you need it to breathe, function, survive no matter how much it kills you in the long run. He’s her drug. Being with him is toxic, deadly and it’s killing both of them slowly but she needs him, she lives him, breathes him, even though neither of them are truly living.

It’s a dangerous cycle, and she’s allowing it to continue because she loves him, he’s her drug, and well he loves her too, right? She’s not entirely sure these days but it hurts too much thinking about this love, this stupid, all consuming, toxic love being unrequited, because she’s lost everything she ever had for this love. There’s a saying, another one her mother would tell her after her husband would leave her alone, she’d cry to her daughter, _‘if it hurts this much, then it must be love’,_ and she never understood it because wasn’t love about being happy and romantic and the fantastical bullshit about saving each other with kisses and tender words? It isn’t and she realises that now. Love is tears unshed, screams stuck in throats, its pain, heart ache and bitter thoughts. She understands this when she looks at him, looks at what he’s become, his once porcelain, regal skin is now sunken and sallow, his dark hair - limp and dirty, his beautiful, expressive eyes – dead. It’s affected her too, she knows this, she sees it, that her once bright eyes have been dimmed, her blonde hair has become dulled and this is killing her inwardly and outwardly, her appearance is proof of this, but she just can’t break away. And well, she thinks, it hurts this much, so yes this _must_ be is love. This is dangerous, dysfunctional and unhealthy love, but its love. And who ever said love was healthy?


End file.
